


Lightning Strikes Twice if You're Lucky

by Davesprite_Glubber



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Eridan is gonna be a jerk, I'm a first time fic writer, I'm really excited about this, I'm writing this for the kinkmeme, M/M, Wish me luck, cut me some slack but give me critiques please, monsterstuck AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davesprite_Glubber/pseuds/Davesprite_Glubber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You open your eyes with a jolt, feeling wave after wave of electricity pour into your veins.  When you come to full awareness, you feel seams at all your joints, horrific things that you know hold you together, yet you want nothing more than to tear them apart.  You know three things: Your name is Sollux Captor, creation designed to serve; your supposed master is one crazy young man named Eridan Ampora; and you know for a fact you hate him for making you what you are.  A freak.  How can you survive serving him for your whole existence?  Very carefully.</p><p>(Eridan is a Mad Scientist who creates Sollux as a minion to assist him.  Considering the intellectual differences and body dysphoria, it takes hardly any time for the two of them to develop a healthy hatred of each other, with enough respect thrown in neither wants to see the other gone forever.  Eventually they'll develop a blackrom if the plot behaves!  Other characters will make appearances as they fit in, but there are no full humans among the canon characters.  OCs may be employed if humans are needed!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I need to say this fact before anything else: this is where I'm hoping to get feedback before submitting it to the lovely individual who requested it on the Dreamwidth Kinkmeme. So while I appreciate compliments, I'd love to hear any constructive criticisms you might have! A huge influence on my rudimentary technique for characterizations and thought processes is Larissafae, who is both here on AO3 and on Tumblr. I would link to everything I mention but I haven;t quite figured it out yet! I hope you enjoy the piece!

When the boy on the table opened his eyes, you thought at first the lightning had fried your brain. Never before had anything so boldly planned worked so beautifully. Yet there he was, mismatched eyes set off by the paired set of fangs you'd added as an emergency defense mechanism.

He sits up after many anxious hours of boosting his memory, slowly, groggily, clumsily, running a shaking hand through hair and stumbling on the four metallic spikes curving upward from his skull, feeling carefully around them. Licking his dry lips with the tongue so carefully stitched into his mouth, his eyes squint green-and-blue against the bright lights reflecting into his eyes off the table, scrunching the skin between his brows into a miniature mountain range of irritation.

You feel a grin slowly growing on your face, enjoying the insanity of the moment as he looks around the room sleepily, finally locking eyes with you.

Scowling, he opens his mouth and you find yourself leaning forward in anticipation. Was this being going to be a worthy minion to serve your great imperial person? This was it, your moment of true determination - was this a failure or a success?

"Th...Thollukth? That'th the name you chothe for me? Really?" The words, so well formed yet hideously flawed, grasp your chest with clawed hands as tight as those of your night terrors. What went wrong? Why-

Covering your faint shock with a well-placed hand at your mouth, you tap a foot in thought and then set to pacing, running a hand through your gelled hair fretfully and wiping the damp on your lab coat. You had put so much work into the bare thing on that table, had put so much effort into making sure the preparations were perfect for the desired result...and ended up with a flawed result. Stupid! You ought to throw the damn creature out the window for- no. Those were exactly the kind of irrational, impulsive thoughts you were trying to get rid of! You shake your head slightly, taking a deep breath of resolve as you turn to properly introduce yourself.

"Eridan," you snap, sharpened teeth glinting silver in his eyes as your irritation slips through to your voice. If only he wasn't so flawed..!

Your thoughts are drawn out of yourself by his movement. He speaks as he pushes himself off the metal table, grabbing the sheet to cover himself as he went. "I know. I knew it the moment I woke up, thtupid. Don't you know what you programmed me for?"

As he speaks, your eyes are drawn to the way the stitchwork you had carefully applied tugs and bunches with his motions. Fused piece-by-piece with care, he almost resembles a doll, arms and legs dissimilar to his body and broken apart by seams. His body is so perfectly imperfect, handmade and utterly gorgeous in a dark manner, yet his speech leaves you feeling as if he embodies an utter failure. You realize he's still talking and tune back in quickly. "...and I really don't underthtand why the fuck you need me with all the dickshit failed exthperimenth lying around here, but whatever. All I care about for now is where the hell I can get thome clothing!" His horns spark dangerously as his hormones rage, and you realize the tiny lightning rods you'd built to take the life charge were still active and still very dangerous if he got worked up. Lifting a hand to placate him, you smile again, ignoring his stinging comments about failed experimentation in favor of getting some clothes for him.

"One second, Sol - er, Sollux. I'll grab somethin' here in a sec for you." You duck your head, turning and darting out one of the doors to rummage through the chest you kept against a wall outside the lab. Guessing at sizes left you taking a bit longer than anticipated.

Grabbing a pair of black skinny jeans and a yellow "bee happy" shirt at an estimated size, you rummage for shoes, irritation rising as you fail to find a good pair. Finally getting fed up with the search, you decide he can go barefooted until you have the chance to go out someplace. Whatever, the guy hardly looked fit to do any heavy walking as it was. Skinny little fucker probably had hardly enough muscle to function.

Stuffing the outfit you'd grabbed into one arm, you fight the door open, but when the sight on the other side of the door greets you, the clothes find themselves forgotten on the ground. The newly-made idiot had gotten off the table entirely, and had plodded over to your table of tinkerings. As you watched, he fumbles along the supplies in front of him and grabs one of your tools - a small glinting scalpel - and hesitates only a moment before sticking out his tongue, eyes crossing in concentration. You watch in stunned awe as he lifted the tool to his mouth, drawing a thin line with the tip of the blade down the center from about mid-muscle down. Some small part of your brain recognizes that he's performing a bifurcation on himself after only a handful of hours of awareness. You decide to watch, as even in the worst case scenario, you could find parts to replace any mangled pieces. As he concentrates on dragging the blade down the center of his tongue, a fine black sheen oozes from the wound; the special formula you had made to support life with electricity to use in place of blood and oxygen was reacting and coating the edges of the cut.

Sollux speeds his actions, not even wincing as he reaches the end of the muscle and drops the scalpel onto the table in favor of holding apart the halves of his tongue. The goo puffs out, bubbling black and oily as it quickly works to cauterize the flesh. That was one of the downsides of being a monster child: previously dead flesh can't regenerate cells too well, so your new formula just seals injuries which would need later to have the scars replaced with healthy skin.

As you turn your attention back to the matter at hand, you catch Sollux spitting leftover black blood into the lab sink and smiling smugly, sticking his newly forked tongue out and flickering it through the formaldehyde-laced air. In that moment you realize that this boy would be far more work than you realized. Great.

\--------------------------------

When you wake up on the cold metal table, feeling aftershocks of electricity being absorbed into your blood as your systems begin functioning, you aren't entirely sure where you are as you squint against the harsh fluorescent lights. Information filters into your brain at a pace generally incomprehensible yet you collect it all subconsciously, if sleepily. Slowly awareness of your situation comes to you and you begin the painful process of breaking the artificial rigor mortis induced by overloading your metalloid blood system. You cringe and after what feels like minutes, hours, days, you push yourself up carefully, feeling your new bones creak in protest. Looking around the room groggily, you see a boy- no, scratch that, a young man- standing gape-mouthed staring at you. Wanting to get rid of the stupid dead-fish look on his face, you decide to say something. Of course, it would be your first words, so what would you... NO. He didn't. That's too idiotic of a name! But alas, it is the case, You've been branded one "Sollux Captor."

Snarling a little at the absurdity of your name, you decide it would be the perfect first words. Sollux. Such a simple word, yet you know it as more than a word. For the rest of your time on this planet, you'll have to respond to it. You spit out a slithering series of words at the man before you, horrifyingly inable to manipulate the thick, gangly muscle crowding your mouth. A sharp fear of your own body catches you off guard, stabbing you sharply in the gut. This man in front of you made you a monster... He made your stitched up patchwork body itch with a need to scratch at your seams, and you didn't like it at all.

You glimpse around the room, seeing for the first time what sort of technology brought you into this world. From the looks of it, the giant lightning rod contraption over the table was the only thing that even worked. You huff a little sigh, seeing that you would have a lot of work cut out for yourself once you actually got to work. Whatever. This fishstick probably wouldn't even realize you'd be better, he'd just take credit for himself. He just gave you that sort of feeling. His crystal-blue eyes had shifted to eager hunger as you woke up, and you knew from the first glimpse that anyone who maintains - is that _purple?_ \- in their hair has to be some sort of vain. Sighing, you spit out a request for SOME sort of clothing, goddamn, and watch as he nods and murmurs something incomprehensible as he scurries out the door.

Finally.

You plod over to the desk against the wall, scrabbling a bit as you familiarize yourself with what was immediately visible. What here could work to fix your atrocity of a tongue? Is that- you sweep a few pieces aside as you hone in on a scalpel lying lonely on the back side of the desk.

Snatching it, you consider the pros and cons of trying to find something to sanitize it, realizing quickly the time risk involved. Bracing yourself, you stick out your tongue and pierce it with a claw, making sure it's immobilized. The pain makes you hiss a bit, but there's nothing to be done for it.

Lifting the blade to the muscle, you begin the painful process of self-bifurcation, proudly not making a sound through the pain. What little did blossom is quickly dulled as your blood begins to fix the edges up as best it can.

Dropping the scalpel onto the desk, you wait while holding the halves apart for them to finish the process, smiling as you suck the newly divided (and remarkably more comfortable) muscle back into your mouth. At least one part of your body is tolerable now.

At that thought you look down, shuddering as you run your fingers over the seams along your joints, raised, black, and angry. What kind of freak were you anyway? What kind of sick, demented soul endorsed creating a monster like you? Your body begins shuddering softly as you feel a strange sort of panic bubbling in you. This was going to be a long, painful lifetime if your body is so horrendous as this the entire time. You let out a shaky sigh before turning around, freezing when you spot Eridan standing shocked in the doorway.

Splendid.

\--------------------------------

Checkmate. Your move.


	2. Explanations and apologies

So! Story time. I've lost a lot of passion for Homestuck and have really fallen out of interest for most of the characters. I felt really bad for the fic prompter though and tried to arrange what all the other characters COULD be. I'm essentially giving up my rights to the fic and anyone who wants to take my one chapter and elaborate or start anew can go right ahead, using my ideas or not. Here they are:

Rose, Roxy: Drunkard fortune-teller townsfolk who live in the tavern-hotel in town warning travellers away.  
John: A cobbler who lives in town afraid of the night.  
Jake: Jade's accomplice-cousin turned demon by a dying wraith. He's the exception to her kill rule and helps her attack malevolent creatures with his speed.  
Jade: A monster hunter who has a kill-on-sight rule. Gives pieces of monster flesh to Jake to help him avoid feeding on humans.  
Jane: The older woman townsperson who takes in victims of monster attacks and cares for them. Has weapons at her disposal in case of their turning.  
Dirk: Writer's choice. Could be a self-proclaimed monster hunter who mostly hides at home and frantically draws what creatures he encountered.  
Dave: Writer's choice. Potentially Rose's twin. Lives with Dirk to avoid being associated with the drunk seer.

Aradia: Friendy tower watch-ghost.  
Damara: Writer's decision. Succubus?  
Tavros, Rufioh: Fae who cast protective repelling spells on areas with lots of mythical beings living there, such as shores and forests.  
Sollux: Eridan's creation  
Mituna: older brother of Eridan who through a failed experiment was reduced to the functioning of a simple lab assistant. Eridan hates him, and he grows so close to Sollux through their mutual dislike he becomes a sort of adopted older brother to Sollux instead of Eridan.  
Leijons: (omitted for personal reasons but can be included at writers leisure)  
Maryams: Vampires  
Pyropes: (see Leijons)  
Serkets: Beldams (from Coraline) who prey on frightened children in dream "bubbles" full of the childrens dream worlds (generally a world free of monsters)  
Equius: Werewolf (his strength)  
Horuss: Writer's choice, potentially the chaotic centaurs of old greece who stole away women  
Gamzee and Kurloz: Town cultists who try to join the ranks of the monsters by capturing townsfolk and sacrificing them every six months  
Eridan: mad scientist  
Cronus: a legendary selkie who created a coat from his pelt and sold it away to stay on land forever because he admired the human life. Still alive in the time of the story, but goes by an alias such as Carn to disassociate from the legend.  
Feferi and Meenah: Peter-Pan style mermaids who drag any passerby into the water. Basically the reason a shorefront town isn't a fishing villa.

Again I apologize for not being able to finish writing the story and hope someone can take inspiration from my ramblings to elaborate. Have fun with it!

I apologize for any grammar errors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again guys and I hope for the sake of whoever prompted this you get a better fill than what I could muster! In other news I'm now more focused on fandoms like FNAF, so I may post works in that category in the future. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Leave any questions or comments you have and I'll get back to you as soon as possible! I know it's short, but the following chapters will be longer depending on what kind of feedback I get. Thanks!


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